Standing Guard
by TheShatteredRose
Summary: Alfion - Alfyn musing about Therion's protectiveness towards him.


**Title**: Standing Guard

**Summary**: Alfyn musing on Therion's protectiveness

**Pairings**: Hinted Alfion

**Word Count**: 732

**AN**: Just a short drabble to help me get back into the swing of things once more. Health still dodgy, but I've missed writing just whatever I want. So I hope to get back into that. Moving on, hope you enjoy this ficlet nevertheless~

* * *

Alfyn brought his mug of ale to his lips but paused when he felt Therion shift ever-so-slightly closer toward him. He didn't make a sound, even as the stool he sat on slid that tiny bit closer. For the first few seconds, he peered at Therion from the corner of his eye before he brought his mead to his lips and drank. Alfyn always felt that light jolt of concern when Therion did something so silently, yet so obviously. Though that soon faded.

Therion was simply guarding him, as it were.

From what, Alfyn didn't know. It was a little alarming to be sure. The thought that there was someone or something that Therion felt was a threat toward him.

He wasn't worried, though. Not in the slightest. No pick-pocket, no handsy drunkard, no trouble-making patron would get past Therion. And for the most part, the other patrons in the tavern also knew that. There were some that had to learn the hard way, though.

Aflyn wasn't sure when it started. When Therion took on the habit of guarding him. Honestly, he didn't realise that Therion had been guarding him at all until that one night where Therion stabbed his knife into some guy's hand as he tried to steal from him. Right behind his back. Even then, he didn't know until he heard the almighty shrill of pain from the would-be thief.

From then on Alfyn had noticed the subtle signs of protectiveness from Therion.

Taking the bed closest to the door when they share a room at the inn. Travelling either a step or so before him or after him as they travelled through the vast wilderness. Always sitting on the stool closest to him when they were at the tavern.

Alfyn took another sip of his mead as he idly listened to Cyrus prattled on about one of his books. Now that Alfyn thought about it, there were moments where Therion's protectiveness was not so subtle.

Throwing his scarf at him when it got too cold. Taking him by the elbow to lead him down a slightly different path. Sticking close to him in battle. And turning to check up on him first afterwards. Chiding him when he forgot to heal his own injuries.

He also wasn't the only one who noticed. Primrose seemed to have picked up on it, too. She likely noticed long before he did. And she seemed genuinely supportive of the idea. Alfyn had even seen her slide a knife or two in Therion's direction rather nonchalantly. Whatever happened to his own knives, Alfyn could only speculate.

Olberic was another who noticed Therion's tendency to stay close to Alfyn whenever they were out, be it travelling through the lands together, or just relaxing at the inn. And he, too, seemed to be rather fond of the idea. He would smirk every now again. A half smirk of approval before he would plaster that stoic expression of his on his face once more.

No one else seemed to notice, though. Well, he didn't think anyone else did.

Alfyn paused when he felt a hand pressed against his back. That was another thing that Therion did often. Another protective measure, as it were. A hand on the back to warn someone, anyone, not to mess with him. Attempt to pick his pocket, or something else, and Therion would not hesitate to stab them. Happened before, and it would no doubt happen again.

And Alfyn didn't mind. Not one little bit.

Being protected and guarded, in both a subtle and obvious manner was reassuring. Comforting. He didn't have anything to fear with ol' Therion there, by his side, keeping one eye on him and one eye on any potential trouble.

Alfyn did wonder if Therion himself took some comfort or reassuring in his guarding of him. Did it make him feel good? Feel appreciated in some way? Did he feel a sense of pride, or even smug superiority, whenever he successfully warded off a threat?

Alfyn had doubt that he would get a straight answer out of Therion. Maybe some half-answers. It didn't matter one way or the other, honestly.

"We should stick to the main roads when we return to the inn," Therion told him matter-a-factly.

"Got it," Alfyn simply replied. No questions. No hesitation.

If Therion was content to guard him, then Alfyn would let him.


End file.
